Burned
by shine7
Summary: Rory gazes at Jess from afar, but he may let her get a little bit closer. How close can they get before they are burned? Final chapter (3) up!
1. Windy

**Title:** Burned 

**Author: **Shine7

**Rating:** PG (could go higher later)

**Summary: **Rory has broken up with Dean. She may or may not be with Jess already. I haven't decided. Takes place during a fictional season 3.

**Disclaimer: **I clearly own nothing affiliated with "Gilmore Girls."  
  


**Chapter 1:**

He made smoking look sexy.

That was it, she thought. Sure, she knew smoking was horrible and that it could kill him someday. But when she looked at him, really looked at him, she came to the simple realization that some people were born to smoke and he was one of them. It was an imperfection, of course, but somehow it was a comforting one on him.

And then he turned around and looked right at her.

She froze.

Rory hadn't meant for Jess to see her. She was watching him from 20 feet away on the bridge, bundled in a sweater. It was a cold October night, with New England fall readying for the harsh winter. She could see her breath. She could see his breath. And to her dismay, she had been caught.

"Hey," he said, lowering his cigarette to his hand, studying it.

"Hi," she said. "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I," he said. "Come here."

She tentatively walked toward Jess, looking at him. He gazed back at her, and in a swift motion, hurled his cigarette into the water below.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, once she was standing just a few feet from him.

"That's okay. I know you hate it when I smoke," he said.

She could still see his breath. It almost looked like smoke. But somehow, it wasn't quite the same. She missed watching his hands carefully, but expertly handle the Camel Light, and the smooth motion of him cupping his hands to light the stick despite the wind.

"No, I don't," she said. "I mean, smoking is bad for you and all, and I would never do it, but somehow it suits you."

"Really?" he asked, shocked. "You mean Rory Gilmore doesn't mind that someone isn't perfect?"

She looked at him, pained. 

"How could you think that I expect you to be perfect?" she asked.

She didn't want him to think that she was perfect, or that she expected him to be. That was the last thing she wanted. And she wasn't perfect, she thought. Would a perfect girl have broken up with her perfect boyfriend despite the perfect town wishing they would live a perfect life together?

She sat down, defensively, with her feet over the edge of the bridge. She crossed her arms. And looked up.

His gaze met hers. He looked to the side, pondering his next move.

And then he made it. He reached for his pack of Camels, and hit the bottom a few times against his side, to make his next smoke easier to light. After carefully drawing a cigarette out of the pack and tucking it smoothly behind his ear, he sat down, bundled in his lined leather jacket. Right next to Rory.

And did nothing.

It was so quiet, and so cold. All either of them could hear was the chirping of birds and insects. They gazed at the water below. Soon, it would freeze over. Time seemed to stand still. They heard each other breathe.

Finally, Jess made a move.

He reached inside the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a lighter. Nothing special, just one of those candy-colored Bics that he purchased outside town, since Taylor refused to sell him any smoking paraphernalia. 

And he flicked it. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Rory watched the flame, enthralled.

He was flicking out of habit, out of boredom, out of a desperate need to do something rather than staying put in this uncomfortable situation. But he stopped, realizing flicking a lighter would hardly solve his problems.

Then, she made her move.

Rory reached for the lighter. He let her. He placed it in the open palm of his hand, and she grabbed it, feeling his cold skin as she took the even colder plastic.

She studied it, looking at the silver top and feeling the harsh metal of the circular lighting mechanism. She had never actually held a lighter. In fact, she didn't even like to light a match. She had been afraid of getting burned since she was a small child.

And now, sitting next to Jess, she was once again afraid of getting burned.

But, with the force of the cold night behind her, she decided to let caution to the wind for once. 

After all, she wasn't perfect.


	2. Huh

**Disclaimer: **I clearly own nothing affiliated with "Gilmore Girls."

**Author's Note:** I've now decided that Rory has broken up with Dean, but is not yet with Jess, although they have been on the edge of getting together for a few weeks. I hope that makes things more clear.

**Previous chapter:**

She had been afraid of getting burned since she was a small child.

And now, sitting next to Jess, she was once again afraid of getting burned.

But, with the force of the cold night behind her, she decided to let caution to the wind for once. 

After all, she wasn't perfect.

**Chapter 2: Huh**

Rory shifted her body closer to Jess. She leaned over, so that she was only a few inches away from his face. 

They stared at each other, both noticing the other breathing faster.

Then, she made her move.

She reached behind his ear.

He was frozen. For a few seconds, at least. Then, he recovered.

"I thought we agreed on no quarter tricks," he said, his voice softer and a little deeper than normal, as her hand accidentally brushed his hair.

She pulled out the cigarette he had carefully tucked behind his ear.

"That doesn't count when you actually have something there," she said. "I just don't like imaginary things being pulled out of my ear."

You can pull anything you want out of my ear, he thought. Anytime you want. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he watched as she moved back to her original position, cigarette in hand. She held it awkwardly, and he wondered if it would soon fall from the cracks between her fingers.

"Got a light?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Remember, you already took my lighter. Plus, didn't you just say you would never smoke?"

Rory was embarrassed, as she looked down and realized the lighter was right at her side. 

She soon rectified the situation, handing him the lighter, which he gladly accepted. They both sat there for a moment, once again in silence.

"Got a light?" she asked.

"Rory," he started. But she soon quieted him by sticking the cigarette in her hand and holding it close to the hand in which he was holding the lighter.

She looked at him expectantly.

"It doesn't work that way," he said. "It has to be in your mouth, or the light will just go out. Especially in this wind."

"Huh," she said, mimicking him. It always irked her, but somehow excited her when he was so deliberately vague. She decided she could be vague too.

Rory didn't know that she needed to put the stick in her mouth for it to light. After all, she had never had a cigarette in her life. Not that she really wanted one, either. She was content to inhale his cigarette-tainted breath. It smelled nice on him, somehow.

But she was trying to be sexy. He was sexy when he smoked. She just wanted to be sexy for him, whatever it took. 

She didn't realize that he always found her sexy, just as she was.

So she brought the cigarette to her mouth, slowly and deliberately. She could feel her cherry lip gloss staining the filter and she could smell the unlit tobacco mixing with the cherry smell right below her nose. It was actually rather nice, she thought. She turned toward him, expectantly, waiting for him to light it. 

Rory dropped her hands and leaned in. 

Funny, it's almost like I'm going to kiss him, she thought.

Apparently Jess had the same idea.

He leaned in toward her, with the lighter primed in his hand, but not yet lit. And in a swift motion, his hand flicked the cigarette from her mouth, sending it tumbling into one of the dirty cracks in the wooden bridge.

"Huh," he said.


	3. Talking

**Disclaimer: **I clearly own nothing affiliated with "Gilmore Girls."

**Author's Note:** This is the last chapter of this story, although I may be willing to write a sequel. Perhaps one that isn't so drawn out.

**Previous chapter:**

Rory dropped her hands and leaned in. 

Funny, it's almost like I'm going to kiss him, she thought.

Apparently Jess had the same thought.

He leaned in toward her, with the lighter primed in his hand, but not yet lit. And in a swift motion, his hand flicked the cigarette from her mouth, sending it tumbling into one of the dirty cracks in the wooden bridge.

"Huh," he said.

**Chapter 3: Talking**

They looked at each other. Again. Then quickly turned away. Their almost-kiss was not forgotten, but it was put on hold by their thoughts. 

It seemed thinking was all they were doing tonight. Neither had been able to fall asleep. Rory had tried for over two hours, but she was thinking too much to be able to go to sleep. Thinking about him. Thinking about them. Wondering if there was a "them" to think about.

Jess had also been thinking too much to fall asleep. As usual, he was thinking about a book. This time, as it often was lately, it was "The Great Gatsby." 

Jess used to identify himself with Nick Carraway, the everyman narrator. He liked to be an observer, didn't like to get involved. But lately, he was hoping that he wasn't turning into Gatsby, going after the unattainable girl and winning her over, only to see her return to her boorish husband. 

Yes, he was becoming Gatsby, he thought. And the thought killed him. Why couldn't he be more like a Hemingway character, one who would never be defeated by a mere woman?

They still sat there, silent and lost in thought. 

Finally, a frustrated Rory broke the silence.

"Why can't we say anything to each other anymore?" she asked him. She was worried. She felt like she was losing him, just as she lost the cigarette. Did he want to discard her too? 

"I don't think there's anything left to say," he said quietly. 

She took it badly. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way, to sound like they were through as friends or a potential couple or whatever they fashioned themselves these days. But a tear dropped down her cheek despite the best of his intentions.

"No," he said. "You don't understand. I didn't mean I don't want to talk to you ever again."

"Then what did you mean?" she asked, her sadness quickly turning to anger. She stood up and was soon hovering above Jess, who turned around to look at her. He decided to stand up too. Soon, they were at eye-level again.

"I meant that I'm tired of talking," he said.

"Yeah, well that doesn't sound much better," she said.

He was so angry at himself. The one time he needed to say things perfectly, he couldn't come up with the right words. And he was still too scared to put himself completely out there, to tell her how he really felt. He had never told anyone how he really felt about anything. Not that he thought anyone would have cared how he felt. At least, until now. 

So he decided to try non-verbal communication. He had always felt a connection with Rory, ever since the first time they met. And she was such a wordy person, always sparring with Lorelai. But with Jess, it was different. She could say things without speaking.

They looked at each other again. Her eyes were beginning to dry, but the tears had caused them to sparkle in the moonlight. 

God, she was beautiful, he thought. Maybe if I stare hard enough, she'll realize that I think so.

She smoothed her hair but still kept her eyes on Jess. He looks like he's waiting, she thought. But for what?

Then, a sudden gust of wind swept through the area. Rory's hair blew across her face and she felt chilled. She crossed her arms over her chest in a protective manner. But it wasn't just the wind she was protecting herself from.

"You're shivering," he said.

"It's cold being out here alone," she said. Downright frigid, she thought.

"But you're not alone," he said.

"It sure feels that way." And she did feel lonely, with him standing close and yet so far from her grasp.

"Maybe I can fix that," he said. For once, he said it right and meant it. She knew he meant it too. 

Her face brightened. He walked toward her, placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them quickly to stop her from shivering.

Rory's hands were at her side, but not for long. Stealthily, she slipped them into the back pockets of his jeans, a move she had longingly seen him pull on Shane months earlier when she came back from Washington.

She stood on her toes and looked up slightly, balancing herself on him until their mouths were at equal levels. Now, she knew why he was tired of talking.

Jess knew she knew too.

There was no more talking that evening.


End file.
